


'Listen Ginsy, I need a writer."

by letmebefleur



Category: Kill Your Darlings (2013), Kill Your Darlings RPF
Genre: M/M, Meeting, Short, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmebefleur/pseuds/letmebefleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucien Carr meats Allen Ginsberg for the first time when Allen came into his room after he heard the music he was playing,based on the movie Kill Your Darlings.Just a short writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Listen Ginsy, I need a writer."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone:)! This is my first writing -especially in english- so I would like to hear your thoughts!

The hallways were filled with the sounds of chatting and footsteps as the students were leaving their rooms and heading to the 'social', which Lucien obviously didn’t plan to attend, because only the most unsocial people go to an event called like that. And Lucien Carr was a person who appreciated some time alone smoking and listening to great music more, than going out to a ridiculous event like that with the most annoying and possibly the lamest people on the campus.

He was sitting on the floor, resting his back against the hard wooden bed and listening to music, what no one was able to admire the way he does. Reading the newspaper, going through the newest information about the war, not that this was the most interesting thing for him, but he couldn’t care less as long as he could smoke and not be bothered by anyone.

He didn’t hear the footsteps approaching his room due to the loud music, which could be heard clearly on the hallways as well. He only looked up when it was obvious that someone has indeed entered the room. The newcomer was around his age, maybe a few years younger than him, he had black, curly hair and his eyes were brown, he wore roundish shaped glasses. The man was a little bit shy, stepping into a complete stranger’s room but a smile was forming on his face as he asked ‘Brahms?’.  
‘Finally!’ He sighed with a relief and a sudden attendance as he put down the newspaper. ‘Someone who is not just a waste of time and space.’ Lucian said and looked at him who couldn’t respond in such a short manner of time and was kind of shocked because of the compliment, although it had a rude ringing. ‘A drink?’  
‘Uhm..wait, you drink in your room?’ asked the man with surprised look on his face.  
’Sure. Wouldn’t it be a shame to leave a fine bottle of wine untouched?’ asked and blew out some smoke.  


Lucien placed two glasses on the nearest table and poured the drinks out, while the man he still did know nothing about stood there, seemingly nervous staring at them.  
‘Have you drunk before?’ Lucien asked with a smirk on his face knowing the answer already judging by the way he looked at the glasses.  
‘I have... I have not.’ came the answer, to which Lucien answered in rush with a genuine smile and true excitement. ‘So it’s a first time. I love first times; I want my life full of them.’ He said as he walked closer to him gesturing with his hands.  
Lucian raised his glass of wine a bit, and then drank it with an almost wicked smile on his face, and his schoolmate took a sip.

            He didn’t even bother to take a better look at his guest at first, but he suddenly had a feeling that he has met someone extraordinary, even though he didn’t show any obvious traces of it, but he just felt it. He wore an ordinary white knitted sweater and his glasses fit perfectly for his face, his eyes were full of nervousness and excitement for some reason and Lucien couldn’t let go of all the possibilities in this stranger. He put down his cigarette then with a smile full of mischief he asked ‘Who are you?’. Then the other man like he just realised that he has been in a complete strangers’ room for quite a long time now, talking with him but both of them still remaining anonymous, got all kinds of tensed and twisted thoughts and he couldn’t respond to the most simple question he heard since September. Meanwhile Lucien watched him and didn’t even tried to hide the pleasure of watching him processing the question.  
‘Allen Ginsberg.’ he said it finally.  
‘Listen Allen, have you heard about Henry Miller?’ he asked while he was already looking under his bed searching for his book, between  countless of books from people with twisted minds and great ideas.  
‘His book is forbidden for some reason, that’s all I know, although I would really like to read it.’ said Allen looking out of the window, it was dark outside and the clouds looked like it is about to snow. ‘I mean, if they don’t want us to read it, it has got to be great.” He continued, mostly to himself but Lucien heard it and smiled at how true this sentence is. Allen suddenly felt more comfortable, since the conversation seemed to flow in a course that he was fonder of. But he still felt something why he couldn’t loosen up, there was something about this man with blond hair and bright blue eyes, that he couldn’t quite put his fingers on it.  
‘Lucien.’  
‘What?’ asked Allen as he looked back from the window, surprised after he had been thinking for a while now. Lucien just stood there patiently with the book now in his hand holding it out for him to take it.  
‘My name. It’s Lucien.’  
‘Oh.’ said Allen still not completely on the ground, after being shaken out of his thoughts, and then he took the book.

            Allen sat down on the end of Lucien’s bed, who didn’t seem to bother, and turning the pages of the book. Lucien didn’t say a word, just leaning against the table, pouring another glass of wine for himself and drinking it while he watched Allen.  
‘Are you a writer? A poet?’ he asked making his way over to him. When he reached him Allen suddenly stood up and said ‘Yes. No...I’d like to be.’  
‘You have it in you.’ the words left Lucien’s mouth as he watched him, just standing there. ‘You are nothing at the moment, yet.. - he made a break wondering on his features - you could be anything.’  
He still stood there saying nothing, processing the said things, taking in the smell of smoke and alcohol.  
‘Listen Ginsy, I need a writer.’


End file.
